


Othala

by GrandestBlood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Bondage, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, Dean in Panties, Deepthroating, Demon Dean Winchester, Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Non-Binary Castiel (Supernatural), Non-Binary Dean Winchester, Oral Sex, Other, Panty Kink, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic, Shotgunning, Smoking, Sub Dean Winchester, Witch Castiel (Supernatural), Witch's Familiar Dean Winchester, herbal smoke, safe word for ritual?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrandestBlood/pseuds/GrandestBlood
Summary: "Magic is left turbulent for too long with witches unable to bond with familiars in the modern world. Less and less people believe in magic and each other,” I explain for them as I step languidly around the circle of invocation in front of my altar where they kneel, the hem of my robe dragging silently on the floor. I glance at the candles by the brick walls that cast a warm glow on their face before returning my eyes to their form. “I need your help to restore it. It's very dangerous right now.”"Good thing I flirt with danger," they drawl as they squirm in their binds.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 28





	Othala

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be an entry for an erotica writing contest but it was cancelled and we never even got the results. I edited this to be Dean/Cas because they're my inspiration for this. I'm posting this here instead forgetting it there where I originally submitted it. The contest is dead for over a year now so I think I have the right to share this in a way that matters to me.

The flux of magic on earth has been unstable for centuries and this instability is the cause of a great unrest. It influences natural disasters just like the storm outside – unforgiving wind lashing out on the trees; lightning piercing the sky; thunder rumbling like a thousand hooves.

As the last witch of my clan, I have to attain the necessary means to protect our land. In order to do so, I must regain the ancient power that past witches had with the help of their familiars and restore the balance of magic together with the spirit.

I invoke them in my bedchamber to beseech their help for this reason. After all, it’s the spirit that chooses to become a witch’s familiar which requires the most difficult of all runic magic – the ritual of Gebo.

Gebo, the rune of partnership, demands a creation of a new bond right before strangers even get to know each other. Seeds of trust will be tested by benightedness. That's the tricky part of this predicament since a demon like them have decided to respond to me. How do I get a demon to trust in my power? And what will I risk in trusting them?

"Magic is left turbulent for too long with witches unable to bond with familiars in the modern world. Less and less people believe in magic and each other,” I explain for them as I step languidly around the circle of invocation in front of my altar where they kneel, the hem of my robe dragging silently on the floor. I glance at the candles by the brick walls that cast a warm glow on their face before returning my eyes to their form. “I need your help to restore it. It's very dangerous right now.”

"Good thing I flirt with danger," they drawl as they squirm in their binds.

They still don't understand, do they? The enchanted rigging of those ropes listens only to my will. The very touch of the red hemp woven across their skin keeps them exactly where I want them to be, its color complimenting the freckles that spread like stardust over their face, their back, and their shoulders. I run my fingers through their hair before massaging their scalp and pulling at their roots to make them gasp. 

They're taut on the floor with their head tilted at me, seeking me out even without their sight. Leather hinders their eyes well and makes them oversensitive to touch especially with the sigils embroidered on it that seal their demonic power. I pace around the circle and they try to turn their head in my direction to follow the sounds of my bare feet.

When I kneel behind them, they growl like a brute as I reach around their waist to twist their nipples. The minimal space between us surely lets them feel the heat of my chest as I press intimately on their back. They are a creature of power but they're even more beautiful like this, bound to surrender themself to me as the ritual of Gebo requires. We meet as fated strangers to become connected by an embrace in the dark.

“When you responded to my conjuration,” I whisper low to their ear, my breath tickling the shell, “Were you already planning to be taken apart like this?” I lick there slowly and bite on the flesh of their neck. Their answering moan thrills me more than they can imagine. “Or did you decide to be debauched by a witch upon seeing me?”

“I was hoping I'm enough of a temptation for you to try,” they utter to me with a cheeky grin, showing off their tongue as they lick their full lips. I drag sharp nails on their chest to wipe that expression off of their pretty face but only succeed making their moans louder. They’re still smirking at me, so I grab their chin and push two fingers at their lips.

“Suck.” The command makes them shiver, and they enthusiastically obey – the first act of obedience they've shown me ever since I've summoned them within the circle. But after a few seconds of their lips closing around me and their tongue encompassing each digit, they start biting teasingly like a kitten playing a dangerous game. “I said suck, not bite.”

I have no inkling of what to expect from their act of defiance but definitely not snickers and continuance of said offense. It's not as if it hurts but their teeth purposefully catching on my skin makes me want to push my fingers even deeper until they choke and cry. I want to have them relinquish their control so they will relax their jaw for me. Then I can use their mouth freely. But that's what they're after, isn't it? So I pull my fingers out to tease them back instead.

“Did you honestly believe that demons just do as we are told when you started this?” they ask with a mischievous lilt to their voice, their teeth now nibbling on my pulse. They feel it flutter so they smile with even more demonic pride.

“No.” I retract my hand from their mouth and step back and out of the circle. “But then again, I also wasn't expecting for a demon to come.”

Of all things to hear from a bound entity kneeling on cold hard stone, melodious laughter happens to be the least of my expectations.

“Oh, I will be coming,” they snicker at the floor but I know it's directed at me, a positively devious smirk stretching the curve of their lips. “If a witch like you is any good.”

For a few seconds, I contemplate what to do with that mouth. Shall I gag them with a toy to seal it shut? Shall I steal their voice with magic? Do I leave it to a miracle to convince them to stay quiet for me? But then I realize I don’t want them silenced. I want to hear them scream filthy and incoherently jumbled words before they get their voice hoarse by the end of this night.

"Aren’t you even going to pretend to be good?" I speak in a hushed placating tone.

They breathe deeper as their smirk falters. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't willing to try."

"I did not summon you to _try_ ," I say before grabbing them from where they kneel. "You chose to come to become my familiar. Do you surrender yourself to me, your pain and your pleasure, for us to share as one?"

"Yes," they reply with a shuddered breath and despite the leather binding their core, I know they can feel magic from my fingertips reaching between their thighs and caressing the delicate white laced panties straining against their cock.

The garment is still surprising to see now and even when they stripped down right after their summoning and sat on my lap to grind their hardness against my thigh. They are so eager for the ritual to begin that I had to push their flushed face on my floor and bend their arms at the elbows to bind them behind their back and get them to calm down. When they still fail to listen, that’s when I opt for the leather to steal their power with its sigils.

Now, that eagerness is replaced with defiant aggression. Their indignation at being tied up is adorable with their power restrained. They keep goading me to touch them because they can’t touch themself. But the ritual has to start with set rules and will end when both of us comply with them all. Physical satisfaction between the two of us will not suffice without enough trust. We can't just rush the ritual so I will teach them patience first.

"Do you remember your safe word?" Every ritual must have a negotiated word beforehand that absolutely stops everything when voiced. I graze the back of their hand with my knuckles and they hesitantly turn up their palms and spread their fingers apart. I take it as cue to interlock our hands even with theirs still bound.

“Othala,” they sigh as I suck at the juncture between their neck and shoulder. They lean their head to a side, giving me more access to their flesh which I take full advantage of. “Inheritance and separation – but don't you think it's ironic for safety to be about separation?”

“Everything that joins must know how to part, even an heir from a rightful inheritance,” I mumble on their skin, drawing the crossed pattern of the Othala rune on them with the tip of my tongue before biting and sucking to leave rosy marks that will bruise beautifully for days to come.

Their moans are music to my ears. I will never forget the image of their leaking and twitching member in a garment too scarce for its girth.

“For two individuals to become one,” I stand to reach for a pillow from my bed but they try to hold on to me, despite their unmoving arms, with a whine that almost sounds like cry, “We must know where I end and where you begin even if it's too dark to see the path.”

I smile at them fondly, even if they can’t see it, and return at their side to place the soft material beneath their back and step into their front to shove their knees apart.

“Move them, they're not bound,” I command with a light kick that makes them pout but they do as they're told, probably because they want to put their cock in display so much now that it's so hard, it must hurt. “Lay back for me, will you?”

Their smirk makes its way back to their smart mouth. “Are you sure you don't want to bend me over instead?”

“I'm not going to say it twice.” I push them down with my hands on their shoulders so they're sitting on their thighs with their knees wide apart, as far as they can go. Then I bring down a bare foot to step on their chest and give a light push with my leg, letting their body fall gently on the pillow I have waiting for them so their back and head are cradled and nestled in softness. They loll their head back and bare their neck in a wonderful display of submission. But no matter how lovely their neck and the bruises I left there are, that's not where my hand goes when I kneel on the space between their thighs.

It's the first time I touch their member through the lace of its confines and spread the wetness coming from its head. They choke on a moan and demand for me to touch them more. I'm feeling generous tonight so I lean forward until their cock is within the reach of my tongue and lick a long stripe through the thin delicate fabric. The panties are soaked thoroughly by now and are basically translucent, unable to hide anything for them.

“Please,” they beg wantonly with a bitten-off moan as if they’re trying to be quiet which is ironic because a moment ago, I swear there was no shutting them up. I wonder what makes they change that? “I need more.”

“Say my name,” I demand with a pinch to their right nipple as I fondle the other one and tweak its center with my nail.

“I don't know-“

“I summoned you with my name, my entire being, as an offering.” I rub their nipples between my index and middle fingers, fondling them rougher than I like to do with myself and making them stutter on their next word.

“C-Castiel...”

I smile at their little triumph. “You're so good for me.” As a reward, I grab their chin and kiss them lightly on their lips, tracing the seam of their mouth with my tongue. “Now, why don't you return the gesture and tell me yours?”

“No.” That’s a steadfast refusal if I ever hear one.

“Why not?” I reach for their cock and give it a few pumps before pulling it out of the fabric and twisting my wrist to wring out more of their keening whines. 

“You’ll banish me when they know my name.”

“Honey, you can trust me.” I keep kissing their lips and twisting my wrist on their cock so they tremble with trepidation as they withhold their reply. “Or say your safe word so we'll stop and I'll take care of you on the bed before letting you go.”

There are a few seconds to consider before they shake their head in negation.

“Dean,” they answer with a real sob this time as they return my kisses, tears making damp spots on the edge of the leather on their eyes before seeping down their face.

I kiss Dean's cheekbones fondly and caress their jaw as they gape at me, waiting for the banishment that will never come. Then, a surge of magic assails my senses as it gushes through the two of us. Contrary to its force, the storm outside weakens to a drizzle, the howling wind turning to a gentle breeze. The ritual is done with us sealing our bond with the complete exchange of our names. But even with the ritual’s completion, I'm not yet done with them.

I venture back between their legs, rip the white fabric apart to pull it off and shove it in their mouth. By the time I swallow them down, wet heat surrounding them, Dean's not talking anymore but singing moans and wordlessly begging me instead. They try to buck their hips to drive their cock deeper into my mouth but the position they are in keeps them pinned so they arch their back instead, showing off their chest and the little red marks marring their freckled skin. If I trace them with my fingers, it will be like connecting stars to form a constellation just for them.

Dean's sounds get more desperate as I move above them and hum around their cock to let them feel the vibrations in their veins. I reach for my groin beyond my robe as I flick my tongue on the underside of their flesh and swallow around their girth, taking them as far as they’ll go in the back of my throat as I bob my head faster. I convulse when Dean comes deep in my mouth as we climax together. Then I release them with a soft pop and remove their panties from their lips to devour them with open-mouthed kisses, our tongues meeting and dancing together to share their taste.

While they're soft and pliant from the afterglow of our orgasm, I help them bring themself to a stand and lead them on the bed. They're panting but nonetheless quiet as I lay them down, their head resting on more pillows while the rest of their body still floats like a cloud. I unwound the ropes that bind them as they bury their face in the softness of the comforter, content and relaxed. When I release their arms and massage them at their sides, they are malleable in my hands. I unlace the leather over their eyes next and set it quietly on the table beside our bed.

Dean is still quiet and boneless even as I walk up to my altar to take my supplies there and bring them to bed with me. I part their lips with the chocolate I break off to smaller bits for them to eat. They lick and bite them from my fingertips as they stare at me with dazed green eyes. It's like Dean can't help their teeth from nibbling.

When they're done with the sweet treats, I bring a glass of water to their mouth and they gulp everything down quickly. I bring out a joint of sage I always have ready to smoke from the drawer of the bedside table and they make noise for the first time since they screamed their voice hoarse from their own pleasure.

“Sage, seriously, Cas?” they groan into the mattress as I light the joint of dried white leaves from my hand. “And I thought you're not banishing me?”

I return to our bed and hover over them before taking a puff of sacred smoke and exhaling its white fumes at their face, thinking about the new nickname from them.

“Our bond is stronger than any purification herb, Dean,” I whisper, and they visibly shudder at the first sound of their name rolling from my tongue. Their blink their green eyes close and when they reopen them, they’re abysmal black, reminding me of the demon that they are. “And you will never be an evil spirit to me.”

Dean is still staring up at me so I inhale another puff and bring my mouth to theirs. Their lips part with a little lick of their tongue and I breathe out the smoke for them to suck while we kiss. They'll be seeing impossible colors right now if they were any other person. But do demons see the same colors as humans do?

“Blue,” they mutter as they exhale the smoke. I giggle while they lightly grasp at my head to play with my hair, tentatively pulling at some strands as if they’ve been wanting to do just that for a while now. And maybe they are ever since I started sucking them off. “Your eyes are so blue. They're the color of magic.”

“That’s what legends say.”

Their eyes return to their usual shade of green to seek me out with a gaze. The relaxed smile they give me next is neither smug nor challenging and it takes my breath away for a second.

“We can become legends together.”

I can’t help returning their smile as I set aside the sage on the table where a tray lays to collect its ash as it burns and fills our room with its smoke. I join them naked on our bed, covering them with our blanket and using magic to put out the flames from the candles of the altar to engulf us in darkness. They are tucked against me, my arms circling warmly around them. Their breath is steady between us and I feel like the earth is turning a new leaf, that this new age of magic is ours to protect – our home; our land; our Othala.


End file.
